


Cascade

by mahbecks



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance, brotherhood era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-02 20:02:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12733353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbecks/pseuds/mahbecks
Summary: He couldn't be in love with Ignis. He couldn't.It was too soon, too fast - the guy'd just had his heart broken by some dick a couple months ago, and here Gladio was, crushing on him, hard. He was supposed to be helping Ignis, being there for him, not falling for him.Some friend he was.But he couldn't help it. Not really. Not when Ignis looked at him like that - like he was the most wonderful person in the world. Not when he could light up Gladio's entire day with a single smile. Nope. Definitely not. He was a goner. No chance.And he didn't have the slightest clue what to do about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this came to me while I was stuck in a six-hour meeting today.
> 
> No. I'm not kidding. Six hours.
> 
> I don't know how long it'll be, but I've got a picture of where I want it to go, and I actually wanted to write it, so hey, I'm not fighting the inspiration train. Not when it's been running so slow lately, lmao. Updates might be slow, because I am trying to finish up some stuff for Gladnis Week. 
> 
> Or, you know, they might be slow because of who I am as a person.

Ignis Scientia was a guy who kept his cards close to his chest.

Gladio had learned that pretty early on in their friendship, back when they were still just kids. It had taken him months of friendly waves and invitations to lunch before Ignis was comfortable talking to him, and another year before Gladio knew he’d gained the other’s trust. But even then, at twelve and eleven years old, Gladio was the more stubborn of the two of them, and he’d made it a personal mission to befriend the smaller, bespectacled boy.

Ignis hadn’t made it easy. Even when their darkest secrets were nothing more than sneaking out to play in the park at night and nicking sweets from the Citadel kitchen, he had always preferred to ask Gladio questions rather than answer any about himself.

At first, it had upset Gladio. Was there something wrong with him? Was he annoying? Did Ignis not like him? It had hit him like a ton of bricks the day he realized that Ignis wasn’t doing it on purpose. Ignis _did_ like him, and he _did_ trust him. It wasn’t that he was trying to be secretive, or sneaky, or evasive. That was just the kind of guy he was.

Quiet. Reserved. A little cautious.

And there was nothing wrong with that. Hell, as Noct’s advisor, it was probably a good thing that Ignis could keep his mouth shut. Advisors were supposed to observe and listen and, well - _advise_ , not run their mouths.

Still, it was more than a little frustrating for Gladio. Because he wasn’t the type of guy to keep things from his friends. If they asked, he told. Apart from the crown secrets he was duty sworn to take to his grave, he was pretty much an open book. To be honest, he preferred it that way; secrets were more trouble than they were worth.

He’d told Ignis that once.

Ignis had just smiled at him in that way he had, the smile that said, “If you say so, Gladio”.

But maybe his words had finally had some kind of an effect. Maybe, after years of telling his friend that secrets only caused problems, he seemed to have finally left some kind of impression.

Because one night, far later than was usual - or appropriate, as Ignis would probably say - he came to Gladio with a confession, eyes darting every which way as he’d asked to come into Gladio’s apartment.

“I’ve something to tell you,” he’d said, too anxious to sit. He’d paced around the living room, arms crossed over his chest, eyes boring a hole into the carpet.

Gladio had waited, the patient one for once, wondering what could possibly have Ignis so worked up.

As it turned out, it’d been a guy.

A _special_ guy - one Gladio hadn’t known existed before that night.

“Wait, you mean - like, a boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Ignis had snapped, finally turning to face Gladio, brows furrowed. “Is that so hard to believe?”

He must have sounded more startled than he actually had been, for there had some been hurt in Ignis’ voice - well hidden, but Gladio knew him well enough to hear it. His mouth had worked furiously for a second as he tried to come up with the right thing to say, tried to explain that no, he wasn’t surprised, he was just… well.

Surprised.

He shouldn't have been - not really. There were lots of things Ignis didn't tell him even now, and lots of things he didn't ask. 

“You never said anything,” he’d finally settled on, figuring that was the least accusatory of the sentences threatening to burst from his lips.

Ignis had deflated a bit, shoulders hunching as his eyes dropped back to the floor. “No,” he agreed. “I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure it would last,” Ignis had admitted. “He’s…”

As he’d stood there, trying to describe this guy he liked enough to call his boyfriend, Ignis had smiled. Gladio almost hadn’t recognized him - it was such a soft expression, something gentle and sweet and lovely, something almost intimate, and he felt a little embarrassed at having seen it. That kinda smile wasn’t meant for him - it was meant for one person, and only them. He’d pointedly looked away.

Ignis had gone on to describe the guy - Lexi, that was his name, short for Alexius, Lexi from Crown Avenue Coffee, Lexi who'd noticed Ignis' caffeine addiction and written his number on a styrofoam to-go cup - growing more and more confident with each word. Clearly, the guy made Ignis happy, if he looked like that just from _talking_ about him.

What Gladio wouldn’t give to find someone who made _him_ that happy.

But he was a serial dater, not a serial boyfriend. His flings tended to be short and sweet, short and hot and heavy, and he lost interest before anything more serious could developed. That the kind of bubbling, overwhelming elation he’d felt pouring off Ignis? Wasn't something he was familiar with. And that was okay - plenty of time for that later.

He was only twenty, after all. 

“Gladio, I think - I think I love him.”

Gladio had frozen, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t said anything, for a moment. He couldn’t. He’d been too surprised. Ignis, in love?

He’d had to mentally scold himself for being as startled as he was.

“Shit. That’s… you sure?”

Ignis had given a little laugh, running a hand through his hair and upsetting the carefully combed strands. Gladio had frowned; since when had Iggy done that with his hair when he was nervous? That was something  _he_ did. 

Huh.

“I don’t know,” Ignis had replied. “I don’t, I - have you ever been in love, Gladio?”

“Nah.”

“Oh? I hadn’t realized… ah.”

Gladio had snorted. “That so weird?” he’d said.

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to imply-”

“Iggy,” Gladio had interjected, cutting him off before he could really apologize for something so trivial. “You didn’t.”

Ignis had nodded, still looking a bit sheepish, and so Gladio had hastened to start the conversation flowing again.

“So, you love the guy.”

Ignis did. Or at least, he thought he did. He hadn’t been sure at the time, and Gladio wasn’t sure he was sure now. They hadn’t spoken of it much since he’d come to Gladio in such a panic, wondering what this meant for the future. 

That had been the reason he’d come to Gladio that night, as it turned out. He’d wanted Gladio’s advice. He wanted to know what to do.

Gladio hadn’t had anything to tell him, other than to do what he thought was best.

And Ignis, it seemed, wasn’t keen on keeping him informed of how it went. For the better part of a month, Ignis said nothing. Nor did Gladio ask.

Gods, he wanted to. He couldn’t help it - he was curious. Ignis was his best friend, his oldest friend. It was natural to want to know what was going in on his personal life, yeah? But he also didn’t want to pry. He respected the guy’s privacy, and if Ignis didn’t want to give him details, Gladio wouldn’t press him.

No matter how insatiable his curiosity was.

Then, one night, again at a stupidly late hour for company, Ignis had once again shown up on his doorstep, this time with his lower lip between his teeth. Gladio didn’t ask questions; he dragged his friend in by the elbow, gently pushing him down into the closest chair he could find before padding into the kitchen and getting him the drink he looked like he sorely needed.

That wasn't the sort of expression that boded well. 

“I need your advice,” Ignis said, taking the can of beer Gladio pushed into his hands.

“‘Bout what?” Gladio asked. He cracked the seal on his own drink, bringing it to his lips and taking a swig.  

“It’s about… Lexi.”

Gladio snorted. “Don’t got a lot of experience with relationships, Iggy,” he admitted. “You know that.”

“You’ve dated before,” Ignis disagreed.

“Yeah, but not seriously,” Gladio replied. “And I sure as hell haven’t dated anyone long enough to think I might _love_ ‘em.”

“Be that as it may… you’ve more experience than anyone else I know.”

Gladio couldn’t argue with that.

“So what it is, then?” he asked, sitting down across from his friend. “What’s up, Iggy?”

Ignis didn’t speak for a minute, fiddling with the can in his hand. When he did, his voice was quiet. “I told Lexi,” he said. “I told him…”

Gladio didn’t need him to finish the sentence. He knew what Ignis had said. Surprised at the surge of the anticipation that welled up in his stomach, he tried to quash it, focusing on Ignis instead.

Ignis, who hadn’t said anything since he’d made his confession.

“Yeah?” Gladio prompted. “And? How’d he take it?”

“He…”

Gladio frowned, sitting up a little straighter. “Iggy?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Ignis continued. “He just stood there, looking at me… then I said his name, wondering if maybe he hadn’t heard me.”

Gladio's hand tightening around his beer.

“He smiled, and kissed me, and then said something about having to go,” Ignis said. “I’ve hardly spoken to him since.”

“... since?”

“It’s been four days,” Ignis admitted. He cleared his throat, taking another sip of beer. “I think I’ve made a mistake, Gladio.”

Fuck.

It was even worse than Gladio had thought. He didn’t have to be an expert to see where this was going. He barely suppressed a groan, half-wanting to get up and trap his friend in a big, bear hug. Because shit, man, he might not have ever had a serious relationship before, but he had enough experience to know it fucking stung when something ended.

And that was what had happened, right? It was over? Iggy had been dumped?

“Iggy…”

“It’s not - this isn’t the end,” Ignis said suddenly, a new strength to his voice that had been lacking before. “We have plans tomorrow for dinner.”

“... Yeah?”

“Afterwards, we have tickets to see the symphony,” Ignis said, nodding. “I bought them months ago. He wouldn't cancel on me, not now. He wouldn't.” 

“You all still going?”

“So far as I know,” Ignis replied. “I haven’t… I should ask.”

He pulled his phone out, tapping the screen rapidly as he navigated through the interface.

Gladio took the moment to study him, to really look at his friend. He was tense; it showed in the hard lines of his shoulders, in the set of his jaw. His brows were furrowed, bangs falling down into eyes ringed red with what Gladio was sure was lack of sleep.

He grimaced.

What was he supposed to say?

What was he supposed to _do_?

Ah, fuck. He was no good at this kind of thing.

“There,” Ignis announced, setting his phone aside. “I’ve asked him.”

“Think he’ll text back?”

“I don’t know,” Ignis admitted. “I hope so.”

“What if it’s not what you wanna hear?”

Ignis hadn’t answered for a long minute.

“Well,” he said, finally, “I suppose we’ll get to that if it comes to it, won’t we?”

As it turned out, it didn’t.

Come to that.

They sat there for close to two hours, Ignis nervously tapping his phone every couple of minutes, Gladio trying to keep his mind off things with pointless small talk. It didn’t work, not really. Ignis was too good at not being distracted.

Still, Gladio persisted.

Iggy deserved nothing less.

Then, right as the midnight news report Gladio had turned on changed to late-night television, Ignis got a phone call. He jerked to his feet, grabbing the phone and nearly dropping it in his haste to get it to his ear.

“Hello?” he’d asked, breathless. “Yes?”

Gladio flipped the TV off, tossing the remote to the side.

He shouldn’t listen to this. It was private. He stood, making to go into the kitchen and throw away the beers he’d been sipping on - where he abruptly realized he could still hear each and every word Ignis spoke in the other room.

Shit.

He stood there, uncertain, half-tempted to put his hands over his ears. But it was so quiet, the only sound the soft humming of his air conditioner. His hands wouldn't stop him from hearing Ignis. 

“I see.”

Pause.

“Well, it doesn’t sound like you’re going to change your mind.”

Another pause.

“You know I can’t do that, Lexi, I-”

There was a choked sound, wet and raspy, and Gladio put a hand over his mouth, biting down on finger.

Was Ignis… was he crying?

Fuck.

He’d never seen Ignis cry. Not once. Even when he’d broken his wrist after a bad landing on a back handspring, Ignis had born with it with a grim sort of determination. Some people didn’t even think he _could_ cry. Gladio didn’t believe that, not for a minute. Ignis wasn’t the stoic, emotionless person some seemed to think he was.

This moment was proof of that.

“I - I suppose it is.” Ignis took a deep, shaking breath. “Yes. Yes, it is. I-”

Gladio turned around just in time to see him take the phone away from his ears, staring at a suddenly blank screen.

“Iggy?”

Ignis looked up, blinking. “He hung up on me,” he said absently, eyes flicking back down to the screen. “I…”

He didn’t say anything else, and with in a sickening moment of clarity, Gladio realized he was waiting - waiting to see if the bastard who’d just dumped him was gonna call him back. No, more than just waiting. He was _hoping._ Gladio could see it in his face.

But the phone stayed silent.

It didn’t ring.

And after another five minutes, it seemed Ignis accepted it as well, letting his arm fall limply to his side.

Gladio took a cautious step towards him, one hand outstretched. “Hey,” he said. “You…”

_You what? You “okay?” You “good?” Hell no, he’s not good, Amicitia._

_Do better._

But what could he say, when Ignis just looked so… so… so fucking bewildered? So hurt? So damn _sad_?

He didn't know. 

"He... he ended it."

He didn't  _fucking_ know.

"Said it was best... best not to go further if he couldn't reciprocate my feelings."

_Say something - anything. ANYTHING._

"... I should go."

_No._

"Thank you, for letting me stay so long. I'm sorry. This whole thing was a waste of time-"

_No._

Ignis turned, making for the door.

At the last second, Gladio moved, catching him by the wrist and holding him fast. "Iggy, wait," he murmured. "Are you-?"

Ignis wouldn't look at him, face contorted in pain. He tried to hide it, bringing his free hand up to cover his mouth, blinking furiously.

"Gladio... what happens now? What do I-"

He choked, shaking his head bitterly when the words refused to come.

Something in Gladio broke at the sight of it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind words and kudos for the first chapter! I'm always blown away by how kind y'all are :)

Ignis had once been told that crying was a sign of weakness. He wasn’t certain now who had said it - a mentor, a trainer, some stodgy, old Councilman rooted in an aging generation’s social mores. But it had stuck with him through the years, perhaps contributing to his desire to appear calm and composed even in the midst of stress. Even now, throat thick, eyes burning, a dark, uncomfortable ache settling into his chest, he fought to keep his emotions in check.

He would not cry in public.

He _wouldn’t._

But then, this wasn’t public, was it? There was no one in this apartment but him and Gladio. Gladio, who had already been far kinder to him this evening than he deserved. Gladio, his closest friend, and the closest thing he had to family. Gladio wouldn’t mock him. Gladio wouldn’t tease him.

Perhaps, then, allowing himself to grieve here was alright.

Ignis stiffened as strong arms enveloped him, one hand pulling him into a broad, warm chest and the other resting gently on the back of his neck. He almost jerked away, for a moment reminded of memories of being embraced by another tall, strong man, of another hand cradling his head. But then he turned his head, catching a hint of Gladio’s cologne, cleaner, less overt than Lex - than _his_ had been, and he relaxed, letting himself be held as the tears came in earnest.

A tentative hand started rubbing circles into his shoulder as he cried. Ignis found himself leaning into it unconsciously, his head tucking underneath Gladio’s chin. A part of him was surprised that Gladio could be so comforting. He berated himself for the thought a second later. It wasn’t so shocking, not really - he’d practically raised his younger sister, after all, in the absence of his parents. He’d likely learned how to soothe her quickly.

Still, the way Gladio seemed to sense what he needed was almost instinctual, as was the way that he eased Ignis into a chair and folded him up in a blanket, and Ignis found himself intensely grateful.

Twenty minutes later, and he’d cried himself dry, leaving his face puffy and aching in the aftermath. Sniffling, he wiped the remnant away with the back of a hand. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Iggy…”

There was a bit of a rebuke in Gladio’s tone, and Ignis faltered, the look in his friend’s eyes making him change tack.

“I ruined your shirt,” he said instead.

Gladio blinked and looked down, surveying the damage. Abruptly, he laughed. “What, you think Iris never snotted all over me?” he asked. “Nothing a washing machine can’t fix.”

“Use cold water, to preserve the color,” Ignis murmured.

Gladio grinned, pushing himself to his feet. “You mean there’s different temperature settings?” he teased.

Ignis scowled, and he laughed.

“I’m just kiddin’. Learned that one the hard way - accidentally washed one of Iris' shirts in with mine on hot water, once. Dyed all my underwear pink.”

Ignis recognized it as an attempt to make him laugh. It succeeded.

“Yeah, Dad never let me live it down,” Gladio said. “Pretty sure he’s got pictures of it somewhere.”

“Your father took photographs of your underwear?”

“Fuck, that makes it sound creepy, Iggy. Nah, he snapped a picture of me walkin’ around in a pair of boxers. What I get for not puttin’ pants on, I guess.”

“Your immodesty came back to bite you. I approve.”

“Hey, it was hot and Iris had already gone to bed,” Gladio retorted. “I thought I was safe.”

“Apparently not.”

“Dad’s a sneaky bastard.”

Ignis decided not to comment on that.

Gladio pushed himself to his feet, padding softly into the kitchen. Curious, Ignis looked back over his shoulder. A late night snack? Doing the dishes? Instead, he saw Gladio grab a kettle and fill it with hot water, setting it in the stove and flipping the burner on.

 _Tea,_ he suddenly realized. Gladio was making him _tea._

He felt tears prick his eyes again, and he irritably pushed them away, staring resolutely at his lap. Once was more than enough for one night, he hardly needed to get emotional again, and over something as trivial as Gladio being _nice_ to him-

He accidentally made a small, hiccuping noise, tensing at the thought that Gladio might have heard it.

“Iggy?”

But of course he had. He was Noct’s Shield, his bodyguard; his senses were nothing if not attuned.

“Shit,” Gladio breathed, coming ‘round the counter and awkwardly crouching beside Ignis’ chair. “Is it the tea? Is it too much?” He shook his head, running a hand through his chin-length hair, tugging on it in frustration.

“No,” Ignis said, attempting a small smile. “It’s nothing, Gladio, truly.”

“I can make something else. Cocoa, coffee - _shit_ , no, fuck, sorry, not coffee, forget I mentioned coffee.”

Ignis frowned, confused. “What-“ He stopped, eyes widening, as he suddenly understand.

Ah.

Coffee.

Lexi worked at a coffee place. They’d met at a coffee place. Half of their bloody dates had involved the drink in some form or another. And so Gladio had guessed that coffee was the last thing he wanted right now.

He was right - but only because it was nearing one in the morning, not because he was ready to swear off the drink. He hardly thought he could give up his morning caffeine simply because an ex-lover of his happened to have been a barista.

“Gladio,” he said, cutting off the mindless chatter Gladio was spouting off in an attempt to rectify what he saw as a gaffe. Gladio’s mouth snapped shut, jaw clenched in consternation.

Ignis did smile then, patting the hand Gladio had placed on his knee for balance. “Tea would be wonderful.”

* * * * *

They didn’t talk about it much. Ignis didn’t offer, and Gladio didn’t press it.

Instead, they sat together, drinking their tea, the quiet companionable rather than awkward. A few times, Ignis looked up, mouth open, a question half-formed on his lips. But then he’d change his mind, snap his mouth shut, and look down into his lap, shoulders caving in on themselves as he got lost in his thoughts again.

Gladio wished he knew how to pull him out of it. But really, was there anything he could say? That he could do? Relationships were hard, and when one ended, everything tended to go to shit. Hell, it didn’t even have to amount to an actual relationship for the loss to sting. He’d dated one girl for no more than a couple months once, and after they’d decided to see other people, it had been _shit_ for a good two weeks before he started feeling normal again.

With someone he actually loved…He couldn’t imagine what that would feel like. The pain. The knowledge you’d never see that person again, never talk to him, never touch them. He had no idea what that sort of hurt would do to a person.  

Hence his dilemma. How could he help Ignis, other than just being there for him?

...maybe that was all he could do.

Gladio hated that.

“Gladio?”

He looked up just in time to see Ignis set his empty mug on the coffee table, blanket falling off his shoulders.

“I think I should be going. It’s late.” He stood, absently folding the blanket in his hands and setting it down on the chair.

Gladio thought about this for a second. “Y’know,” he said slowly, watching Ignis carefully. “You don’t have to go.”

“Hmm?”

“You can always stay the night here,” Gladio offered. “If you don’t wanna go back just yet.”

Ignis hesitated. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“C’mon, nothing you ain’t done before.”

“Well, yes…”

“You can even take the bed,” he said, grinning. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Nonsense, Gladio-“

“Take it.”

“You can’t fit on that couch-“

“Wanna bet?”

Ignis pursed his lips. “Alright, you can't fit on that couch _comfortably.”_

Gladio shrugged. “One night won’t kill me.”

Ignis stared at him for a moment, considering. “If you’re certain,” he said, sounding anything but.

“I am.”

“And I won’t be putting you out.”

“Iggy,” Gladio said, sighing. “Look, you really wanna leave, go right ahead. I won’t stop you. But if you’d rather stay - if you don’t wanna be alone right now - my room’s all yours.” He pointed down the hall, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his bedroom. Winking, he added, “I’ll even throw in a towel and the shower, if you wanna use it. Just because I like you.”

Ignis gave him a tiny smile, and Gladio chalked this one up to a victory.

“Thank you, Gladio,” he breathed. “I… I appreciate it.”

Gladio clapped a hand on his shoulder as he walked past. “Anytime, Iggy.”

He waited until Ignis had slipped into the bedroom and shut the door behind him before releasing the breath he’d been holding, letting the exhaustion he’d been battling all night take over. It wasn’t just the hour of night - it was… well, everything. Too many emotions in one night, maybe. Stress, commiseration, sympathy, wanting to beat Lexi’s ass into the ground… it was a lot to take in one night, and he was sure Ignis was feeling even worse. He was gonna feel like straight shit come morning, of that Gladio was sure.

He paused, thinking of something.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed Noct’s number. He had no doubt the prince would still be awake. It was summer, the summer before the prince's last year of high school. What else did he have to do but stay up late and play video games with Prompto?

He wasn’t disappointed, the prince picking up on the fourth ring.

“Yeah? Gladio?”

“Hey. Noct.”

“What d’you want, it’s late.”

He sounded distracted, and in the background, Gladio could hear the sound effects of what he was sure was some shooting game.

“It’s Iggy. He’ll be late tomorrow.”

Noctis didn’t answer for a moment, and the noises faded. “Specs is gonna be late?”

“Yeah. Couple hours or so.”

“Why?”

“He’s…”

Quick, what should he say? Not the truth, for sure. That was Ignis’ secret to tell, not Gladio’s. He wasn’t gonna go blabbing.

But what would Noct believe?

“I drug him out drinkin’ with me,” Gladio finally said. “Had a little too much.”

Hey, it wasn’t totally a lie - Ignis had had a beer or two. A couple hours ago. That would have been totally metabolized by his liver now.

Eh.

On the other end, Noct snorted. “Gonna be hungover, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Can you make him just take the whole day off? Got a meeting with the Council I'd like to skip-”

“Yeah, fat chance of that happening.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Noct sighed. “Worth a shot.”

The noises picked up again, and Gladio guessed he’d resumed whatever game he was playing. “I’ll send him your way when he’s hydrated again,” he said.

“Give him a bowl of Frosted Fritters, too.”

“What? The _cereal_?”

“Yeah, wakes him right up.”

“Frosted Fritters. Ignis.”

“Weird, right? He’ll deny it all day long, but they’re his favorite.”

“Iggy eats sugary breakfast cereal?”

“Only when he thinks no one is looking,” Noct said, snickering.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You do that.”

Noct hung up a second later, and Gladio pocketed his phone, trying not to groan at the time he saw on the clock. Gods, it was gonna be hard to get up tomorrow. Especially since it was a recruiting day. Fuck. That meant six a.m. drills.

He turned, looking at the couch. Iggy had a point - it _was_ a bit small for someone his size. But it was old and the cushions were soft, and if he let his feet hang off the end, it wouldn’t be terrible. He could take it for a night.

Still, he’d have to go get a pillow and a blanket from his room. Shrugging out of his shirt, he headed down the hallway, keeping his footsteps soft in case Ignis was already asleep. He reached out, putting a hand on the doorknob, when he heard it.

A soft, sniffling sound, and then a deep, shuddering breath.

He grimaced.

Should he… go in? Say something? He felt a little guilty, standing here at the door, listening to his friend sob into his pillows. Ignis was normally so composed, so in control. To see him breaking apart like this…

He took step forward, ready to turn the handle and step inside. But the next sniff was followed by something that sounded suspiciously like a name, a name Gladio quickly decided he hated, and Gladio took a step back, slowly letting go of the doorknob.

No.

It wasn’t him Ignis wanted comforting him. It wasn’t him Ignis wanted to see.

It was someone else.

Hating the feeling of helplessness that washed over him, he padded back out to the living room.

* * * * *

Ignis woke several hours later, feeling no more rested than he had when he’d gone to sleep. His entire face ached, and his body felt heavy, sluggish. Groaning, he pushed himself up and swung his legs to the side, rubbing at his eyes.

In the other room, he could just make out the sounds of Gladio shuffling around. Despite himself, Ignis smiled. Gladio wasn’t much of a morning person; he tended to a move a little slower, slur his words a little bit. When he could, he slept in, sometimes almost as late as Noctis. That he was up so early today meant he likely had a training session to get to.

All the better, then, that Ignis had awoken early - he could thank Gladio before he left. He could tell him how much he appreciated his company, how grateful he was for not only staying up with Ignis, but then comforting him and letting him stay the night.

He didn’t deserve a friend like Gladiolus Amicitia - truly, he didn’t.  

Ignis slipped out into the hall, walking towards the light in the living room. Gladio had his back to him, clad in nothing but his boxers - black, this time. Not pink. Ignis couldn’t help the smirk that crept across his face at the sight, and he cleared his throat to announce his presence.

Gladio whirled around. He relaxed when he saw who it was. “Iggy,” he said. “Shit, you scared me.” He scowled. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Ignis replied. He eyed the gym bag at Gladio’s feet. “Leaving soon?”

“Yeah. Gotta drill some sense into the new recruits. But hey, what’re you doin’ up?”

Ignis blinked. “This is when I normally get up,” he said.

“Nah, go back to bed,” Gladio said, jerking his head back towards the bedroom. “I called Noct last night, told him you’d be late. Don’t worry,” he added quickly, “I didn’t say anything.”

Ignis let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I see,” he said.

Gladio pulled on a set of workout clothes, grabbing his sneakers and sitting in a nearby chair. “I gotta head out in a few minutes, but hey, you stay as long as you want,” he said.

“I couldn’t,” Ignis protested.

“You _could_ , if you tried-”

“Really, Gladio, you’ve been - you’ve been far too nice to me,” Ignis said quietly. Gladio paused at that, looking up through the messy strands of hair falling into his eyes. “I appreciate the offer. But I should get back to my own apartment.”

Gladio eyed him - no doubt considering whether getting his way was worth the argument. He quickly decided it wasn’t, shrugging. “If you want, I won’t stop you,” he said.

Ignis nodded. “Thank you.”

“But you should still get a few more hours’ sleep, if you can.” Gladio looked sheepish as he added, “You look like you need it.”

Ignis grimaced. “Is it that bad?”

“Nah,” Gladio said quickly. “Just - you look tired, Iggy. Just tired.”

“I am,” Ignis admitted. “But if I sleep, then I dream, and if I dream…” He broke off, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

“Hey,” Gladio said softly. “I get it. You don’t gotta explain it to me.”

“Thank you. I’d rather work, and keep busy,” he admitted. “Luckily, I have enough meetings today to keep me occupied. I won’t be finished until six, and after that-” He froze, thought half-finished.

After that, he had been planning on meeting Lexi for dinner and then going to the symphony, the one he'd been waiting for months to see. It was Scheherazade, one of his favorites, something he'd been immensely looking forward to. But he didn't want to go to the symphony alone - not with the seat next to him empty, mocking him, reminding him of the man he'd hoped to share this with. The pain that had ebbed during the night returned in full force, and he had to force himself to take a deep breath.

Gladio frowned, standing and taking a step toward him. “Iggy?”

“It’s nothing,” Ignis said quickly.

“Like hell it ain’t,” Gladio retorted. “You’re white as a sheet.”

“It isn't."

"Iggy."

"It's just…” Ignis shook his head, sighing. “Tonight. The symphony. Lexi and I-”

“Oh, shit.”

Ignis snorted, nodding. “Yes,” he said. “Shit.”

They stood there for a moment, neither of them quite knowing what to say. Secretly, Ignis hoped Gladio would have some sort of idea, some suggestion as to what he could do. But instead, he just kept shifting from one foot to the other, biting his lip. Several times, Ignis thought he was going to speak. But he never did, keeping silent as Ignis contemplated what to do with the tickets.

“I suppose I can try to sell them,” he mused. “Although I doubt many would be interested, this last minute. Or I could... go alone... actually, I don't think that's a good idea. I don't suppose Noctis would go with me. What do you think?"

"I think..."

"Yes?"

"I think I should go with you."

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who is interested, this is an actual symphony. "Scheherazade" by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. Probably my all-time favorite to listen to while I do stuff. If you want to listen to it while reading this, I know the music is on Spotify, probably Youtube as well. My favorite movement is probably the first, "The Sea and Sinbad's Ship" but I like them all, to be honest.
> 
> <3 Much love to y'all. You're too kind :)

For a moment, Ignis didn’t say anything, just staring at him with big, wide eyes, and Gladio wondered if he’d said exactly the wrong thing.

Fuck.

But surely Iggy still wanted to go, right? He'd as good as said it. Gladio had heard of this symphony - all of their shows sold out almost immediately. You had to practically snipe tickets as soon as they were available, and even then, you had to buy them months, sometimes even years, in advance. These tickets were probably something he’d wanted to share with his ex, sure, but they weren’t something he’d bought _because_ of him.

Right?

“I… would you repeat that?” Ignis finally asked. He sounded a little dazed, as if that was the last thing he’d expected Gladio to say.

“I think I should go with you.”

Ignis was silent another moment before he replied. “Gladio, I… I appreciate the offer, but it isn’t necessary.” He took his glasses off, rubbing them with on the still untucked hem of his shirt. He took his time, too, making Gladio think he was stalling, and then slowly pushed them up with the tip of a finger. “I can go by myself,” he continued.

“Do you want to?”

“What?”

Gladio quietly repeated himself, looking straight at his friend so there could be no doubts as to what he was asking.

“Well, no,” Ignis admitted. “I don’t.”

“So I’ll go with you.”

“You needn’t do such a thing-”

“I want to.”

Ignis peered at him suspiciously. “Do you even like classical music, Gladio?”

“I like all music, Iggy, you know that.” Gladio frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, I get it if you really don't want me to come. I do. Just say it, and I'll back off. But if you want company... I'm offerin', Iggy. Serious.”

“I…” Ignis cleared his throat. “It’s not that I don’t want you to accompany me, Gladio. I… I would like that, I think. These things are better with a companion. But if you’re only doing this out of… out of _pity-_ ” He spat the word out like it left a bad taste in his mouth, shaking his head and looking down at the floor. “I don’t want you to pity me. I don’t want you doing this because you feel as if you have to.”

“Hey.”

Gladio put a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze in the same way he would when Noct was upset about having made a mistake during training, and Ignis’ eyes shot back up, surprisingly bright in his pale, tired face.

“I wanna go, Iggy,” he said. “I wanna go because I think it’ll be fun. I wanna go because you’re my _friend_. And-“

He hesitated. He’d been about to say something along the lines of suggesting that the symphony might distract Ignis from what was going on in his personal life. Give him a break, yeah? A distraction? But maybe that was going a step too far. Maybe that was just rubbing salt in the wound. And hell, he hardly needed the reminder that yeah, against his will, he was single again, the guy he loved having rejected him.

He shifted, trying frantically to think of something else to say. But Ignis caught him, giving him a reproachful look.

“Out with it, Gladio,” he said softly.

Gladio took a deep breath. “I was gonna say that… maybe going out tonight will take your mind off things, distract you for a few hours?”

Ignis blinked, and Gladio sighed, pushing on in the face of his friend’s silence. “Look, Iggy, I gotta admit, I don’t really know how to help with all of… _this._ ” He made a vague gesture towards Ignis, hoping he got the picture. He seemed to, motioning for Gladio to continue. “But I figure if I can just… well, if you keep doin’ stuff, hangin’ out, talking, makin’ it seem like things are back to normal… that’s a start, yeah? Just doing shit like we used to? I know I can’t fix this, and I know it takes time, but-”

Ignis visibly relaxed, and Gladio forced himself to shut up while he was ahead. “It’s a start,” Ignis agreed, shooting him a wan smile. He paused, swallowing. “But please, Gladio, don’t think you haven’t helped. Because you have - quite a bit.”

Gladio grinned, pleased despite his uncertainty. “Yeah?”

“Immensely,” Ignis replied. “I know you think you don’t have much experience in these matters-”

“‘Cause I don’t.”

Ignis quirked an eyebrow. “Regardless, you care, Gladio, and that counts for something. You care, you listen, you were… you were _there_ , and sometimes, I think that’s all that can be done.”

Gladio nodded, understanding.

“For now, though, I think it best I leave. There’s a can of Ebony in my refrigerator calling my name.”

He stepped away, picking up his coat and shrugging into it. For the first time, Gladio realized it dwarfed him, several sizes too large, and he frowned. It wasn’t like Ignis to wear anything less than perfectly tailored suits, but this jacket was too long in the sleeve and too wide in the breast. The color was off too, a more faded black than the dark fabric of his trousers.

Huh. That was odd. Why would he -

_Oh._

His intuition hit right at the same time that Ignis ducked his head towards the collar. Gladio had no doubt that he was trying to smell the cologne still lingering at the lapel.

_Oh, Iggy._

He grimaced, pretending he hadn’t seen anything when Ignis suddenly looked up, a hint of a flush to his cheeks.

“I…”

Gladio forced a smile, picking up his gym bag and hefting it over a shoulder. “You ready? I’ll lock up behind us.”

Ignis hesitated, but quickly nodded and walked to the door, not looking back as he slipped outside.

Gladio waited a few moments before following. He needed the time to compose himself, to get a hold on the anger suddenly swirling about inside his head. Otherwise, he was gonna want to go find this douchebag and give him a piece of his mind, something he realized he absolutely, one hundred percent could _not_ do.

For one thing, he doubted that was what Ignis wanted.

For another, it’d look really fucking bad if a high-ranking member of the Crownsguard - and the prince’s sworn Shield, to boot - went out and just beat up a random civilian. No matter how much they deserved it.

Fuck.

Gladio wasn’t a violent guy. He wasn’t, despite what people might think of him. He could fight, yeah, and he valued his physical strength. But he’d learned long ago that he was meant to protect, to _shield_ , not to attack or cause harm. That wasn’t his purpose, his father had once told him, no matter how much it might appear that way to an outsider, judging him purely on his outward appearance. He was a protector, not a fighter - defense over offense, a shield not a sword.

But gods if he wasn’t being tested now.

A little harder than was necessary, he jammed the key in the lock.

It was a good thing he was going to practice drills. He could throw himself into the exercise, blow off some of this steam, run himself ragged until the anger was nothing more than a memory. That was what was for the best, yeah?

For him and Iggy both.

* * * * *

Ignis studied himself in the mirror with a scrutinizing eye. Was this too much? He raised a hand, adjusting the silvery tie he’d selected. It gleamed against the black shirt he wore underneath it, just as it did nestled between the dark black collar of his suit coat. But was it too formal?

 _Not at all,_ he chastised himself. A three-piece suit was standard for these types of occasions. He was merely overthinking things, as usual.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his comb and tried to put his hair into some semblance of order.

He felt sick to his stomach, bile threatening to force its way up his throat every couple of minutes. Each time, he would irritably push it away, clamp it down, tell his overactive mind to get a hold of itself. Each time, it would ignore him. 

It would probably help if he’d eat something. But other than coffee, he’d not managed to keep anything down all day. The thought of food now made him want to vomit. It had left him looking rather peaky all afternoon, the pallor to his skin only highlighted by the darkness of his clothing.

He hoped Gladio wouldn’t comment on it.

But if he did, he would only do so out of concern for Ignis’ health, as Ignis well knew. Ignis smiled at the thought. He was lucky to have a friend who cared so much, even if he did sometimes find that concern unnecessary. Not everyone had that type of bond with another, that trust and affection and genuine compassion for another’s wellbeing.

He’d thought perhaps he could have that connection with Lexi, but…

 _No,_ he thought sharply. He shook his head, as if he could physically shake the insidious, intrusive thoughts from his mind. _Don’t go down that road. Don’t you even entertain it._

Thankfully, he was distracted by a knock at the door.

 _Gladio_.

Ignis hastened to the entryway to allow his friend inside and out of the rain that had been steadily falling all afternoon.

Gladio had his hands stuffed in his pockets, hair still damp from a shower. He smiled at Ignis when he saw him, amber eyes warm.

“Hey.”

“Hello,” Ignis replied, without thinking. He was too busy admiring Gladio’s choice of attire - a deep red shirt with a patterned black tie, matching suit coat stretched tight across his broad chest and shoulders. It was entirely different from what Lexi would have worn, subdued yet stately instead of trendy. Ignis wasn’t sure whether he liked or disliked that. “You look nice.”

“Look who’s talkin’,” Gladio said, stepping inside at Ignis’ behest. “Not that I’m surprised. You always look good, Iggy.”

Ignis shut the door, leaning back against the cool surface. “It was something my mother taught me,” he admitted.

“Yeah?”

“‘Always dress your best,’ she said. ‘You never know who you might run into.’”

Gladio chuckled. “Dad told me something similar once,” he said. “Don’t think it took, though.”

Ignis couldn’t help but smile. “You don’t _think_?”

“Okay, maybe not at all.”

Leaning down, Ignis selected a pair of shoes from the rack and began to put them on. “It’s just as well,” he said. “You’re one of a rare few that manage to make athletic gear look dashing. You might as well take advantage of it.”

Gladio snorted at that.

His shoes in place, Ignis rose. “The performance starts at seven,” he said, checking his watch for the time. It was a quarter past five, precisely when he’d told Gladio to meet him. “I figure it might take some time to get there, with the traffic, but we should have just enough time for a drink before we get our seats.”

“A drink?”

Ignis nodded.

“Like, booze?”

“Well, they certainly aren’t going to serve you milk,” Ignis retorted.

Gladio ignored the jibe, absently jingling his keys in his pocket. “Sounds like a plan. Your car or mine?”

“Whichever is fine.”

“Let’s take mine, then - got a spot right out front.”

Gladio’s car was simple - a plain black sedan, the same issue as the rest of the Crownsguard stock. But he’d done a few things to make it his own - the Cup Noodle figurine cemented to his dashboard, the necklace hanging from the rear view mirror, the collection of CD’s strapped to the sunshield… this was a car that had some personality, one that was well cared for and used.

It also, Ignis noted, smelled of Gladio.

Strongly.

It wasn’t unpleasant, he thought. There was the familiar tang of sweat, accompanied by the clean, earthy scent of Gladio's soap. Underneath it all was the faint sweetness of a sports drink, and something spicy, like cinnamon.

Again, he was struck by how dissimilar it was to Lexi’s preferred cologne. Again, he was grateful for the difference.

Just as he’d suspected, the ride to the theatre was plagued by traffic. It took them nearly ten minutes just to get off of the side road that led to Ignis’ apartment, and another twenty to make it to the freeway that would lead them downtown. Still, they made the most of it, discussing the day’s events, both large and small. Gladio made no mention of what had happened last night. And so Ignis didn’t either, pushing all thoughts of it from from his mind. It was surprisingly easy to do.

But then again, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising after all. Gladio was nothing if not easy to talk to.

Parking was almost as dreadful as driving had been. It took them almost fifteen minutes to find a usable spot, and the both of them were more than a little frustrated when they finally parked. _But no matter_ , Ignis told himself firmly. They were here, they had forty minutes to spare, and by the gods, he was going to _enjoy_ himself.

He was. The alternative was to go home, put on a pair of his most comfortable sweatpants, and watch mindless television until he fell asleep, and he wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

He wasn’t ready to wallow.

Gladio caught his elbow, tugging him away from the side of the street. “Careful, Iggy,” he murmured. “Looks slick.”

“I see that,” Ignis said, though it wasn’t quite the rebuke it might’ve seemed. Instead, he focused on how Gladio hadn’t let go of his arm, keeping a firm grips on his elbow as they walked towards the theatre’s entrance.

“Gladio?”

“Yeah?”

“My arm.”

“Oh, sorry.” Gladio dropped the contact immediately, smiling apologetically. “So used to doin’ that with Iris. Forgot it was you.”

Ignis said nothing to that, for he couldn’t think of an appropriate response. Instead, he pushed on, flashing their tickets as they passed through security and then leading the way to the small bar on the second floor.

“Nice place,” Gladio commented, looking around.

“Nice” was perhaps an understatement. Elegant marble columns lined the room, accentuated by the plush, red carpet and dark paneled wooden walls. The ceilings were decorated with hundreds of beautiful murals, paintings of Astrals and past monarchs of Lucis rendered in wonderful splendor.

“It is, isn't it?” Ignis replied, sinking down onto a barstool. “I’ve been here several times, but it always managed to take my breath away.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’,” Gladio said. He stared up at the painting just above them a moment longer, captivated by Shiva in her icy domain, and then plopped down into the seat beside Ignis, ordering a whisky neat when the bartender asked.

He rounded on Ignis next, and he ordered a glass of red wine, his usual. It was a tad drier than he liked, when he tasted it, the tang of it making his lips pucker, but it would do.

“So,” Gladio started, looking over at him. “You excited?”

“Quite,” Ignis admitted. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about this conductor - Buernoducci, that’s his name.”

“Altissian?” Ignis nodded. “Yeah, they’re really big into the classics. Though I always preferred Galliani.”

“Galliani?”

“Yeah, he’s done a lotta stuff with the older symphonies, translating ‘em to modern instruments-“

“I wasn’t aware you were versed in Altissian musical practices.”

Gladio flashed him a grin, downing the rest of his whiskey. “Told you earlier, Iggy,” he said. “I like all kinds of music.”

Ignis flushed, taking another drink of wine.

Gladio didn’t seem bothered by his surprise, however. “Iris used to do ballet, y’know. That’s how I got into it. They were always playin’ this kinda music at her recitals, yeah? I always thought it was pretty. Kinda calming. I made it a habit to look up the pieces when I got home - find the composer, look up the rest of their stuff. It helped me study. Eventually, I stopped pretendin’ I was only looking to find the music for Iris.”

Ignis frowned. “Were you embarrassed?”

“Nah, that’s not the right word for it,” Gladio said, running a finger along the rim of his glass. “I know what I like. No shame in that.” The bartender came and offered him another drink, and Gladio gave him a friendly nod, passing over his credit card. “It was more… I wanted to know what everyone else liked, yeah? I wanted to listen to what was popular. Not because it was better, but so I could talk about it.”

“Ah.”

Having finished with Gladio’s whiskey, the bartender turned to Ignis, but he politely shook his head, still nursing his first glass.

“Not many people our age who like this kinda stuff,” Gladio mused.

Ignis nodded. “Had I known you liked it as well, I’d have spoken of it more,” he admitted. “Lexi was-“ He stopped, clearing his throat. “He was one of the first people I’d met who seemed to like it as much as I did.”

Beside him, Gladio went still.

“That was our first date, you know,” he continued. “A concert in the park over the summer. Violin sonata in E Minor. It was at night, the sun just beginning to slip over the trees. We drank wine and had those little ice creams they serve out of carts.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was… perfect,” Ignis admitted. “He knew so much about the music, too. He kept feeding me these little bits of information about the composer, how he’d written the piece as a tribute to his late wife, how he’d struggled to find an audience for it, and the proper venue. I was so impressed by his knowledge.”

He paused, frowning. “Now that I think of it, it’s almost odd that he would know so much. Not just about music either, but art, cooking, those comedies I like that you tease me about… it seemed like _everything_ that I enjoyed, he liked as well.”

A dark, terrible thought came to him then - what if it had been a trick? What if this had all been a ruse, a way for Lexi to get him into bed? Learn all his habits and hobbies, research them extensively, and then woo him relentlessly, until he believed himself in love… it was cruel, Ignis thought, not to mention convoluted.

But then, some people enjoyed conquest, didn’t they?

He snorted bitterly, trying desperately to regain the excitement he’d felt just moments before. “I wonder now if that wasn’t forced on his part. To get me to have sex with him.”

Gladio stared at him. “What? You think he’d have done that?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Ignis replied. He took another drink.

“That’s low,” Gladio muttered. “That’s… no way. You’d have figured him out if that was his goal. There’s no way he’d have been able to pull that off.”

“No?” Ignis mused. He shrugged. “It fits. He certainly was quick to end things the moment I admitted I had feelings for him.”

There was a loud clink as Gladio set his glass down on the table, empty. Several other theatergoers looked their way in surprise, murmuring to each other. Gladio seemed not to notice, eyes glued to the wooden surface of the bar and his jaw clenched tight. Ignis frowned, wondering if something he’d said had angered his friend, but when Gladio spoke, his voice was soft.

“If that was all he wanted, then he was a fucking idiot.” He looked down at his phone and then pushed himself to his feet. “Ten minutes ‘til show starts. Wanna head to our seats?”

Still a little perplexed, Ignis nodded. “Yes,” he said faintly. “Let’s.”

Again, Gladio let him lead the way. Ignis walked half in a daze, still thinking on their most recent exchange. He’d said nothing that wasn’t plausible, that wasn’t entirely within the realm of possibility. Was Gladio frustrated with him for doubting someone’s intentions in himself? Was he angry at Lexi, reputation blackened by Ignis’ musings?

Perhaps it was a little of both.

He snuck a glance at his friend as they took their seats, curious. He didn’t quite get away with it, Gladio’s gaze rising to meet him.

But where Ignis has been expecting hard, abrasive heat, he saw only molten warmth, Gladio’s amber eyes still soft and concerned. He raised an eyebrow at Ignis, half-opening his mouth to speak. To say what, Ignis wondered?

He never got to find out.

“Program?”

Ignis turned away, taking the preferred little bulletin from the usher with a forced smile, and when he looked back, he saw that Gladio had pulled out his phone, fingers typing away at a message.

No matter, Ignis supposed.

The show was about to start anyways.

* * * * *

“Take the anger management classes, boy,” his father had told him once. “Learn to control that temper, before it bests you.”

At the time, Gladio had hated his dad for making the suggestion.

Now, he could have kissed him.

Gods, he needed a fucking beer. And this was after two whiskeys - two _strong_ whiskeys. He pocketed his phone again, his text to Iris sent, running a hand through his hair. His fingers lingered at the back of his neck, pulling. The pain brought him back, made him release the hard, angry breath he’d been holding.

 _Snap out of it, Amicitia,_ he warned himself. _Don’t do this - not here, not now._

It was bad enough that he’d almost broken his glass, slamming it on the bar like that. Wouldn’t do for him to throw a bitch fit in a theatre.

But he couldn’t help it. He was just so… so fucking angry. The idea that Ignis’ ex had only been in it for the sex made his blood boil. It was just fucking wrong - you wanted sex, you had hook-ups. You had dates. At the least, you had some sort of agreement where both people realized what was going on. You didn’t trick someone into thinking they were in a committed, exclusive relationship with you just so you could get in their damn _pants._

Gods, what an asshole. What an absolute, fucking piece of shit-

“Gladio?”

He looked over at Ignis, watching him with guarded eyes.

“Are you alright?”

“What?” he asked stupidly, because of course he wasn’t alright. He was about as far from alright as he’d ever been. But he didn’t need to go putting that anger on Iggy. So he shook his head, trying to relax down into his seat - easier said than done, considering it seemed like it was made for someone four inches shorter and thirty pounds lighter than him. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Ah - my mistake. I thought someone had called you.”

“Oh, no, Iris just wanted to know when I was pickin’ her up tomorrow.”

“Training?”

Gladio grimaced. “Shoe shopping.”

That, at least, seemed to bring a smile to Ignis’ face, one that lingered as the lights dimmed and the curtain concealing the stage arose. Gladio settled back in his chair, crossing his arms over his stomach. Beside him, Ignis did the opposite, leaning forward until he was nearly hanging atop the railing, perched on the edge of his seat.

Gladio smiled.

It was good to see Ignis look happy for something again.

The music began in earnest, then, delicate violins countering loud, sonorous horns. Gladio had never seen such a production before, not in person, and he had to admit, it was something. The acoustics of the room were perfect, each sound bouncing off the walls and echoing in his ears.

But more than the people on the stage, more than the man with the baton whose hair was flying every which direction, Gladio found himself watching Ignis. He looked like he was in trance, eyes wide, completely focused on the musicians upon the stage. If Gladio listened closely, he swore he could hear him humming along to the violin’s sections, slightly off key but still enthusiastic. It was… cute.

You know.

For lack of a better word.

He’d never seen his friend like this before. Yeah, he tended to get caught up in things sometimes, and Gladio was no stranger to Ignis’ laser-sharp focus. But to see him so peaceful, so relaxed? So obviously enjoying something? It was nice, but also kinda strange, and again Gladio felt like he was witnessing something almost intimate.

Only this time, he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

Ignis looked back once and caught him staring, right after the second movement. He smiled, leaning in close and murmuring, “What do you think? Isn’t it wonderful?” in Gladio’s ear. Gladio smiled, nodding, and Ignis retreated, getting lost in the music once again.

When it was over, it was like something shattered.

Ignis’ smile faded, his eyes gone dull with fatigue and worry again, and he said next to nothing as Gladio led the way to the car.

Should he say something? Ask Iggy if he’d had a good time? That made it sound like a date. He snorted at the thought, lips curving up into an amused smirk.

“What’s so funny?” Ignis asked.

Gladio paused to look back at him. “I was just thinkin’ maybe I should ask you if you had a good time,” he replied. “But then I realized that makes it sound like this was a date.”

Only belatedly did he realize his choice of words might sound odd. Shit, he hoped that had come out the right way. It had just been a joke. The last thing he wanted was to make Iggy uncomfortable. But the next thing he knew, Ignis was smiling, pulling open the door to the car.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Relieved, Gladio plopped down into the driver’s seat, digging out his keys to stick in the ignition.

“But for what it’s worth, I had a lovely time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I - thank you, Gladio. You were right. I do feel better for having gone.”

Gladio smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

“And thank _you_ for going with me. It was much better than going alone would have been.”

“I hope so,” Gladio teased. “Don’t think I could take it if an empty chair beat me out.” He turned back, checking his mirrors for oncoming vehicles. “Now, c’mon - let’s get you home.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 <3 <3

There.

That was all of it.

Ignis looked down at the box on his bed, filled to the brim with seemingly random objects - several t-shirts, a worn sweater with a hole near one elbow, a bottle of lotion that smelled of sandalwood and cedar… trinkets, all of them, artifacts of his relationship with Lexi. He’d gathered them up, thinking to throw them away so that he wouldn’t stumble upon them while he was moving about his apartment, so they couldn’t remind him of the man who’d once spent the night with him several times a week.

But as he’d begun collecting these items last night, he’d started to hesitate. These weren’t things Lexi had given to him - they _were_ Lexi’s, left behind in a morning rush or a passionate, hazy good-bye. He couldn’t just throw away someone else’s possessions, no matter how much he wanted them out of his sight.

Well, he supposed, he could. But it would be very rude, and considering the monetary value of some of the CD’s and books he knew rested in the box, perhaps costly.

He’d decided to return them, instead.

The tricky part, he realized, was making himself go through with it. Could he make himself go all the way to Lexi’s apartment, and then actually get out and walk to his door? Could he manage to talk to Lexi long enough to explain why he was standing on the doorstep? Could he do it without getting emotional? Beyond these questions, there was an insistent part of his mind that told him Lexi wouldn’t even want to see him. Perhaps he would shut the door right in Ignis’ face, look at him through the peephole and refuse to even open up.

That wouldn’t be too terrible, Ignis mused. It would sting, yes, akin to a slap in the face. But what was one more hurt on top of the ache that had become so commonplace to him?

No, if Lexi refused to see him, he would leave the box on the doorstep with a note explaining his intentions. Maybe it would even be better that way - for the both of them. A clean break, as it were, with no more contact than was necessary.

A small part of him still wanted that contact though, if he were being honest. It was strange, to go from seeing someone nearly every day to not seeing them at all, to go from speaking to them on a daily basis to complete silence. He could look at the pictures stored on his phone still, and play through silly videos they’d made in the park, but it wasn’t the same. He wanted to _see_ Lexi, to look at his easy smile and warm, brown eyes. He wanted to reach out and tuck his long, brown hair behind his ears, run his fingers over smooth skin and full, plump lips.

Gods help him, he wanted nothing more - regardless of how cruelly the man had pushed him aside.

It was irrational, he knew. He shouldn’t want to see a man who’d made it so very clear that he didn’t return the sentiment. It made no sense. But then, emotions and relationships never did, did they? The heart wanted what it wanted, regardless of what the mind knew was good for it.

Ignis took a deep, shaky breath, sitting down on his bed. There was a tightness in his chest, almost as if he were struggling to breathe. He wasn’t, of course; the pain was psychological, not physical. But that hardly made it less real. It threatened to overwhelm him, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths before pulling out his phone and dialing the first number in his contact list.

“Iggy?” Gladio’s voice, still a little hoarse from sleep, was some small comfort to him, and Ignis allowed himself a muted sigh. “What’s up?”

“Gladio. I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Yeah, but ‘s’okay. Shoulda been up an hour ago anyways.” There was a pause, followed by a shuffling noise Ignis guessed was Gladio moving around in his bed. “Need something?”

“I - yes. I have a favor to ask you, actually. If it isn’t too much trouble.”

It was too much, a part of him argued, and unfair of him to keep dragging Gladio into this mess. But another, larger part of him didn't want to do this alone, wanting the comfort his friend's presence would provide. He had argued with himself all night about whether or not to ask Gladio. Eventually, the side that had desired Gladio's presence had won out, and he'd made a plan to call Gladio come morning. It was selfish of him, he knew. 

He hoped Gladio wouldn't think less of him for it.

“Sure.”

“I have a few things that I need to return. I was hoping you’d accompany me.”

“Return?” Gladio fell silent for a moment. “To like, the library? Like books? Or things you gotta take back to the store?”

“Ah, no.” Ignis pursed his lips, thinking of how to phrase his request. “The other night, I noticed that a few of Lexi’s possessions were still scattered around my apartment. I don’t want them here, and so I’ve decided to give them back to him.”

Gladio made a noise at that, something halfway between a growl and a snort. “You don’t wanna just throw his shit out?” he asked.

“I considered it,” Ignis admitted. “But some of the things he left behind were quite valuable, and I don’t want to… well, I’d prefer to simply give them back and be done with it.”

“Iggy-”

“I understand it’s probably foolish, and I’m certainly not expecting him to extend some sort of hand to me while I’m standing there on his doorstep,” Ignis interjected, voice sharp, because he wasn’t - he _wasn’t._ No matter how much he might wish for it. “That isn’t what this is. This is… it’s…” He huffed out a breath, taking a moment to regain his composure. “I need to do this, Gladio. It’s closure.”

For a long minute, Gladio was silent, and Ignis half-thought he was going to refuse. But then he sighed and relented, and Ignis relaxed, the tension palpably rolling off his shoulders.

“Gimme half an hour,” Gladio murmured, “So I can shower. I smell like a fuckin’ ashtray.”

Relieved, Ignis let out the breath he'd been holding. Only then did he process what Gladio had said. “Late night?” he guessed.

“Yeah, couple of the guys dragged me out to a bar,” Gladio replied. “Cheap booze, dirty bathrooms, no questions asked - that kinda place.”

Was that why Gladio was still abed at this hour? Had he been nursing off the remnants of a hangover? A pang of remorse hit Ignis then, and he bit his lip, again wondering what he’d done to deserve a friend like Gladio, one who would come to his aid even when it wasn’t convenient for him. Surely, it must have been something good.

“I take it you could use breakfast, then?”

It was the least he could do, really. And he had plenty of time, if Gladio was going to be half an hour.

“Hey, I’m never gonna say no to your food,” Gladio said, chuckling.

Ignis smiled, though he knew Gladio couldn’t see it. “I’ll have something ready for you, then.”

“Thanks, Iggy. Really.”

“I think it’s I that should be thanking you, Gladio.”

“Yeah, well…”

It was all he said, unable to come up with a suitable end to the sentence, and he’d ended the call a moment later, still lost for words. Ignis wasn’t surprised; Gladio had never been particularly adept at handling gratitude, particularly for actions that he felt required none. He was simply the type of person who helped when a person was in need, expecting nothing in return. Several times, that aid had been taken advantage of, people using Gladio’s kindness against him. Each time, though, Gladio had shrugged it off, saying something about having to take the bad with the good.

He didn’t hold grudges, and he didn’t exact revenge. Not in the way that Ignis sometimes did - not in the way that _most_ people sometimes did.

Not for the first time, Ignis wondered why that was. Was it a lesson his father had taught him, long ago? Was it something he’d learned in caring for Iris all these years? Or maybe it was just the way that Gladio was, something intrinsic to his being.

Regardless of which was true, Ignis appreciated his friend’s generosity. One day, he would find a way to repay Gladio for all that he’d done over the past few days. It would have to be something big, he thought, something truly meaningful. Gladio deserved nothing less.

For now, though, all that he had to offer was breakfast.

With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and walked towards the kitchen.

* * * * *

Gladio pulled over to the side of the road in front of a small, aging apartment complex.

This was it. They were here - Lexi’s place.

It looked fucking beat to hell - the walkway was heavily broken up, grass poking up through the cracks, and the brick was stained with smoke and dirt. The roof had seen better days, as well, sagging in the middle, a few shingles torn off in spots.

“It looks better on the inside than it does on the outside,” Ignis offered weakly, as if he could read Gladio’s thoughts.

Gladio snorted, but said nothing.

Beside him, Ignis was tense on the seat. His hands were white where they were clutching the box on his lap, and he kinda looked like he was gonna throw up. Part of Gladio wanted to suggest they can this whole idea and drive back to his place, but he knew Iggy wouldn’t go for that. They were already here, for one thing, and for another, he knew Ignis really wanted to get rid of Lexi’s shit.

That, at least, Gladio could understand. He’d thrown out multiple sweaters over the years, couple of pairs of underwear too. Once he’d even found a _bra_ behind the headboard of his bed - how that’d gotten there, he’d never figured out. But each time, he’d been quick to dispose of the leftover belongings, not wanting to think too hard on what had happened to end that particular fling.

It had to be even worse for Ignis, who’d been with this guy, what, almost a year?

Shit.

No wonder he hadn’t said much on the way over here - too nervous, Gladio guessed, or maybe worried he’d talk himself out of it.

Ignis cleared his throat, and Gladio looked up.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he said, putting a hand on the door. He made as if to push it open, fingers curling around the plastic handle. And there he sat for several long moments, frozen, curling in on himself, and Gladio frowned.

“Hey,” he said, putting a tentative hand on Ignis’ shoulder. “You want me to go with you?”

“No,” Ignis said sharply.

Gladio blinked, a bit taken aback by the vehemence in his friend’s voice.

“No,” Ignis said again, more softly this time. “Apologies, Gladio, I…” He broke off, sighing. “I appreciate the offer. But this is something I have to do myself.”

Gladio could understand that.

So he drew his hand back, sitting back in his seat to wait as Ignis finally pushed himself up and out of the car, standing on the sidewalk for a moment before steeling himself and approaching the door. He knocked exactly three times before taking a step back, back straight, face forward.

The door opened maybe a minute later, revealing a tall man with curling, dark brown hair. Clad in nothing but a pair of pajama bottoms, he frowned when he saw who it was, one hand reaching for the door to slam it shut again. But Ignis held out a hand out, saying something Gladio couldn’t quite catch through the window, and the guy paused, giving Gladio the chance to get a good look at him.

Huh.

Gladio frowned, not sure what to think.

To be honest, when Ignis had first mentioned Lexi, he’d imagined someone… well, someone kinda like Ignis. Slim but fit, scholarly-looking, well-dressed. The type of guy who’d look right at home in a library or a specialty coffee shop. But that wasn’t the case at all. Lexi looked more like someone who spent their days in a gym, pumping iron and running laps, or maybe at a juice bar, chugging those god-awful protein smoothies some of Gladio's buddies liked. Hell, if anything, Lexi looked a little like -

Well, shit, if anything, he looked like _Gladio._

His introspection was cut short, however, when he heard raised voices outside the car. Lexi had taken a step forward, brows snapped down into a scowl, his posture threatening and aggressive. Ignis had abandoned the box of goods for a more defensive stance, hands up in front of him.

Gladio tensed, hands tightening on the steering wheel as the argument started to escalate. Lexi had shifted into something resembling a fighting stance, one hand up in a half-guard. It was almost as if - but no, that couldn't be it. Surely not. He wouldn't - would he? He wasn't gonna… was this prick gonna fucking _hit_ Ignis?

Gladio heard rather than felt his teeth cracking, his jaw was clenched so tight. He had half a mind to jump outta the car and tell this jackass to back off. Not because Ignis couldn’t defend himself - hell no, Iggy was great in a fight, better than Gladio probably, with his lightning-fast reflexes and natural flexibility. But to react, you needed to be expecting some of attack. You needed to accept that the person in front of you was gonna hit you.

From the bewildered, hurt look on Ignis’ face, Gladio didn’t think that was gonna happen.

Shit.

Ignis had told him to stay here. He’d told Gladio to stay out of it, to sit tight, to wait for him while he handled his business. And Gladio wanted to respect that. He did.

But if this douchebag was gonna fucking _punch_ him...

Well, that was something he couldn’t take.

Lexi took another step forward then, hand clenched into a fist at his side, and Gladio had had enough. He got out of the car, rounding it in four quick steps, heart pounding in his chest. “Hey,” he called out, “Back off.”

Ignis looked back at him, surprised to see him out of the car. “Gladio-”

“Oh, yeah? And who’re you?” Lexi sneered. He eyed Gladio with distaste before looking back at Ignis. “This your consolation fuck?” he demanded, grinning. “Damn, Ignis, I’m hurt. You say you love me, and a week and a half later, you’re fucking my replacement?”

“That’s not what this is,” Ignis snapped.

“Seriously, fuck off,” Gladio added.

“Couldn’t even find a guy who didn’t look like me,” Lexi said, goading them on. “I mean, for shame, Ignis-”

“He’s a friend,” Ignis said flatly, “One I’ve known far longer than you. I just asked him to drive me here.”

“Sure,” Lexi said, snorting. “Whatever. So he’s just _protecting_ you like that because he’s your buddy. My bad.”

“Iggy doesn’t need my protection,” Gladio retorted. “He could beat your ass ten ways to Sunday.”

“Gladio,” Ignis murmured, shooting him a stern look.

“So why you out here, then?” Lexi shot back.

“In case you fuckin’ sucker-punch him, that’s why-”

“What?” Gladio almost rolled his eyes at how offended that single word sounded. “You think I’m gonna pull some punkass move like that and _hit_ him?”

“Sure looks that way to me.”

Lexi stared at him for a minute, incredulous, and Gladio began to wonder if maybe he’d made a mistake. But no, he’d been trained to read people’s body language like that, he _knew_ when someone was preparing to throw a punch. Lexi had exhibited every sign, whether he’d been aware of it or not. Still, the accusation seemed to have thrown him for a loop, and he took several long, calculated breaths as he worked his way through it.

“Fuck me,” he said finally, letting out an unamused laugh. “I don’t wanna fucking do this right now, Ignis. I can’t.”

“Lexi, please-”

“Look, I’m grateful you brought my things back,” he said, cutting Ignis off before he could say much else. “I am, really. But if you came here hoping this would change things, you’re wrong.”

“I don’t think that,” Ignis said quickly. “I didn’t, I -”

“I think you should go.”

Ignis snapped his mouth shut, words dying in his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

Ignis managed a small, tight-lipped smile. “So am I,” he replied.

He stood there, rooted to the spot, while Lexi turned and walked back to his door, picking up the box of his possessions as he went. Arms crossed over his chest, head turned to the side… had he not looked so very hurt, Gladio would have thought Ignis was angry.

Dammit. He knew he’d been taking a gamble when he’d gotten out of the car, but maybe he’d really made an error in judgment.

Ignis turned, heading back to the car, and Gladio followed him, hands stuffed in his pockets. Neither of them said anything as they sat down and buckled themselves in. Gladio was uncertain of whether or not to offer an apology. He should, right? For effing that up? But then, maybe Ignis just didn’t want him to talk at all. Maybe he just wanted Gladio to take him back to his apartment so he could forget about this whole fucking thing-

“Gladio.”

Gladio looked sideways, not sure of what he’d see.

“Thank you.”

Gladio blinked, and then frowned, taken aback. “For what?”

“He wouldn’t have hit me,” Ignis continued. “...or so he said." He broke off, snorting bitterly. "But his posture was threatening, and he was getting angry. I don't want to believe he would have done such a thing, but... honestly, if you hadn’t intervened, I don’t know what would have happened.”

Gladio grimaced. “Fucking pathetic,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“I agree,” Ignis said. “It was… disappointing.” He laid his head back against the headrest, eyes slipping closed as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. “He’s never displayed that type of behavior before.”

“What set him off, d’you think?” Realizing Ignis might not want to talk about it, he hastily added, “I mean, tell me to fuck off if you don’t know or don’t wanna say, but-”

Ignis shook his head. “I can’t say for certain,” he murmured. “But I believe… I may have told him that I missed him.”

“...and that made him want to _slug_ you?”

“No, I don’t think it was that simple,” Ignis disagreed. “It was…” He huffed out a frustrated breath, opening his eyes and scowling down at the floorboard. “It was a lot of things, Gladio. Things we should have discussed at some point in our relationship but never did, things we always put off until later. Differences of opinion, differences in what we wanted. Things I probably shouldn't have mentioned as I was standing on his doorstep, close to tears. Perhaps he thought I’d come to beg him to take me back.”

“And were you?”

Ignis was silent for a moment, eyes hard. “No,” he said finally. “I won’t - I won’t plead for someone like that when they’ve made it clear how they feel about me. That doesn’t mean I didn’t want to do so, though.”

“Iggy…”

"Pathetic, you called him. Sometimes, I wonder if I'm not just as much so."

Gladio didn’t know what else to say to that other than to vehemently deny it. "You're not pathetic, Iggy. You're not. You loved him. That's not easy to get over." He put a hand on Ignis’ shoulder, trying to offer what physical comfort he could. Ignis leaned into the touch, shooting him a grateful smile. 

He spoke again a moment later, his voice a little more sure, a little calmer. “As I said - thank you for intervening. I’m glad it didn’t come to blows, though - we’re lucky your mere presence was enough to throw him off track.”

“Yeah,” Gladio said, snorting, “Lucky. Lucky for _him._ ”

“And I apologize for what he said about you.”

Gladio blinked, not sure what Ignis was talking about. Had Lexi insulted him? Called him a name? He didn’t think so. But then what did Ignis-

_“You say you love me, and a week and a half later, you’re fucking my replacement?”_

Oh.

That.

He’d brushed it off, to be honest, considered it something Lexi had said in order to try and hurt Ignis. He’d not taken the words seriously. But it looked like Ignis had, and here he was, attempting to apologize for something he had nothing to do with.

“Don’t worry ‘bout that, Iggy. You and I both know it ain’t true.”

“Regardless, I don’t like the insinuation that I was using you to replace him,” Ignis said firmly. “You’re much more to me than just that.”

Gladio could have made a joke about that, teased Iggy a little. But the mood wasn’t quite right for it, Ignis’ face still too solemn, and so he just smiled and turned down a side street whose name he recognized.

Ignis frowned, looking back over his shoulder. “Did you make a wrong turn?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“I don’t recognize this street.”

“That’s because you’ve never been to where I’m taking you.”

“...where you’re taking me?”

“Pancakes, on me, all you can eat.”

“Gladio, are you-”

“Certain? Yeah. I am. If I know you, you haven’t eaten much of anything this past week. So I’m takin’ you out to the best pancake house I know.” Right on time, he pulled into the parking lot of a well-lit, posh little diner, sliding easily into a space by the door. He put the car in park, turned off the ignition, and turned to face Ignis, face as serious as he could make it. “Iris’ favorite are the super cinnamon maple pecan.”

Ignis hesitated. “I suppose breakfast would be nice,” he said slowly. "I do feel that I could eat."

“Yeah?”

"But what of you? You just ate not half an hour ago."

Gladio shot him a look. "Like that's gonna stop me from eatin' again." 

That surprised a laugh out of Ignis. "You are insatiable," he admitted. He sighed then. "I suppose you'll not even hear of letting me pay?"

"Not a chance."

"Alright. Though I draw the line at - what was it? ‘Super cinnamon maple pecan pancakes’. That sounds a bit much.”

“Oh, they’re disgusting,” Gladio said, grinning.

“Something lighter, though, something with fruit… I think I can handle that.”

Gladio smiled.

“C’mon, then. Let’s get you fed.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sincerely hope this chapter doesn't suck eggs.
> 
> Also, a quick note: Because next week is Gladnis Week, I will likely be taking time off from this story to focus on finishing up my prompts for that. Rest assured, I'll be back at this one soon! But I need to get up off my ass and actually finish the stories I've started, lmao, so I thought I'd throw the warning out there.
> 
> Thanks again for your kind words and feedback! <3

The first two weeks after Lexi broke up with him amounted to one of the longest, hardest periods in Ignis’ life.

And that was saying something, given how stressful his daily life commonly was. He was no stranger to long days and longer nights, often falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion only to wake the next morning completely unrested. He was used to the tedium of Council meetings, used to having to affect a calm demeanor around the Citadel. But the strain of the duties and responsibilities he had shouldered, the frustration, the fatigue that was his near constant companion during the week, was nothing compared to the pain of waking up each morning, alone and cold in his bed, knowing that things weren’t going to get better anytime soon.

Perhaps he was being dramatic. Life would go on, as he well knew, and time healed all wounds.

But that didn’t make it any easier in the present.

Eating was hard. He forced himself to take his meals at regular intervals, certainly not wanting to collapse on the job. But the food tasted bitter in his mouth, tasteless, even when he knew there was nothing wrong with the flavors. Too many times, this he’d scraped unfinished food off his plate and into the trash, avoiding Noctis’ curious gaze as he did so. That was a conversation he wasn’t ready to have, a story which the prince didn’t need to hear.

Sleeping was even harder than eating. Each night, when he finally lay down, he closed his eyes and prayed he didn’t dream of Lexi. He wanted to dream of nothing, or, if he had had to see something, he wished it was something plain, something innocuous.

Rarely were those prayers answered. Instead, his mind saw fit to grace him with Lexi’s smile, his touch, his _taste_ , his memories transformed into terrible, haunting echoes of what had once been commonplace.

He would wake, reaching out for a body that wasn’t there - it was only when he felt nothing but cool, smooth fabric beneath his questing fingertips that he would realize it had been just a dream.

Falling back asleep was harder after that. Many nights after such a dream, he’d lie awake for hours, staring up at his ceiling, wishing he could forget - forget Lexi’s face, forget the sound of his voice, forget the way he’d looked when Ignis had told him that he loved him. But his memory was nothing if not excellent, and he found that as much as he wanted to erase such things from his mind, it was easier said than done.

There were some small things he could do to speed up the process. Getting rid of Lexi’s things had been one. Another was deleting all photographic evidence of him.

Which was how it came to be that he was sitting on the couch in Gladio’s apartment, hands beneath his thighs to prevent him from reaching out and grabbing his phone out of his friend’s grasp.

“You sure you want me to do this?”

Gladio sounded hesitant, though he’d accepted Ignis’ explanation for deleting the photos easily enough.

“I’m certain,” he said.

“They’ll be gone forever.”

“Yes,” he agreed.

Gladio stared at him a moment longer before he relented, sinking down onto the couch beside Ignis. “Okay,” he said. “Here goes.”

He navigated to Ignis’ pictures, clicking on the folder bearing Lexi’s name. Instantly, the screen flooded with snapshots. Pictures of dates, pictures he’d taken when Lexi hadn’t been looking, pictures of sentimental things, like the rose Lexi had given him on their third date or the program from a ballet they’d watched together… it was all there, every picture he’d ever taken of or with the man.

Well.

Most of them.

He’d already deleted the pictures of a less-than-appropriate nature, to spare his friend the sight. The two of them were close, probably as close as two friends could be, but they weren’t _that_ close.

“Got a lotta photos,” Gladio commented, thumbing the icon of the trash can as each photo popped up on the screen.

“Lexi’s insistence,” Ignis replied. “He always wanted to document everything.”

“Hmm.”

“He’s not quite as insistent with a camera as Prompto, but I’d say he’s a close second.”

“I can see that,” Gladio said, smirking. He held up the phone, showing a blurry picture of a coffee cup. “He take this one?”

Ignis recognized the photo instantly. It had been an accident, one Lexi had been in the middle of taking when Ignis had leaned across the table and kissed him on the temple in a rare moment of public affection. Lexi had jerked away, startled, and the picture of the delicate coffee art in his mug had been ruined. They’d laughed it off afterwards, but Lexi had insisted they keep the picture, blurry as it was.

“It’s not perfect,” he’d said, “but hey, it’s a memory. Keep it.”

And so he had, cherishing the candid moment as something precious.

“Iggy?”

Ignis blinked, eyes lifting to meet Gladio’s expectant gaze. “Ah, yes,” he said. “He took that one.” He waved a hand for Gladio to keep going, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Delete it, please.”

Gladio shrugged and did as Ignis asked, erasing the picture from existence with the touch of his thumb. He moved on to the next with little more than a blink, and then the next, and the next, the minutes passing slowly as he worked through the album.

“Y’know,” he said quietly, “You’re pretty photogenic, Iggy.”

Ignis frowned. “What?”

“I mean, you don’t look bad in any of these photos,” Gladio explained. He snorted. “Kinda annoyin’, actually.”

“Please,” Ignis scoffed.

“I’m serious, look.” Gladio turned the phone around, pointing to a photo Lexi had taken at a petting zoo that had come to Insomnia during the summer. “A fuckin’ chocobo is eatin’ your hair, and you still look like you just stepped outta some kinda magazine.”

Ignis rolled his eyes. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Gladio-“

“It ain’t flattery if it’s true. You could be on the cover of GM,” Gladio continued, naming one of the more popular men’s magazines in print. He paused, eyes flicking up. “Huh. You ever think of that, Iggy?”

“Think of what?” Ignis asked, guarded. He recognized the gleam in Gladio’s eyes as the one that appeared when he had a terrible thought - he recognized it and didn’t like it.

“Modelin’,” Gladio said.

Ignis couldn’t help it. He laughed. “You can’t be serious,” he breathed. “As if I’d have the time for that.”

“...no, like for real.”

Ignis shook his head, still chuckling to himself.

“C’mon, it ain’t that far-fetched,” Gladio insisted. “You took good photos, you’re attractive, you have that…” He waved a hand vaguely. “...that _thing_ models have goin’ on.”

“That thing.”

“Yeah, like… allure, a pull, a presence, a-“ He paused, nose scrunching as he contemplated the right word. “Like sex appeal!”

Ignis blinked, surprised.

There were many things that he considered to be true of himself - he was intelligent, he was poised, he had some amount of charm and grace. He was also, he knew, passingly attractive.

But sexy?

And to have _Gladio_ think of him as such?

It was… odd, yes, that was the only way to describe how he felt at this revelation. A part of him was flattered, naturally. A larger part was curious, wondering if this was just one of those things Gladio sometimes said, or whether he truly meant it.

“You think I’m sexy?”

The question left his lips before he could think of pushing it away. For a moment, it hung there, in the air, thickening the tension Ignis had begun to feel the moment Gladio had showed him the ridiculous photograph of the chocobo nibbling on his bangs. He feared Gladio might not answer.

Instead, he looked up, unshakable as ever, shrugging. “Well, yeah,” he said. “I’ve seen you at the bars, Iggy. You got moves.” He said this last with a grin, as if it would make Ignis happy.  

It did nothing of the sort, only serving to make Ignis more confused, and he frowned. “Do you think I’m appealing, in a general sort of sense, or do _you_ find me sexy?” he asked. He wasn’t quite sure how he wanted Gladio to answer - either had it’s own ramifications, certainly. But he had always hated ambiguity, and this was no exception; he wanted to know the truth.

“I mean, both?” Gladio cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not tryin’ to hit on you or anything, but yeah, you’re hot, Iggy. I’d date you.”

Ignis’ frown deepened. “Me,” he said flatly.

“Yeah, sure.”

“But you’re…”

Ignis trailed off, uncertain. He had been about to mention how his friend had only ever dated women, about how he was decidedly _not_ gay. But then he’d realized he’d never really asked Gladio about whom he was attracted to, and thought better of it.

Gladio guessed what he’d meant anyways. “Straight?” he asked. He snorted, shaking his head. “Nah.”

“But you’ve only ever mentioned being with women.”

“Yeah, so that’s not… exactly the case.” Gladio ran a hand through his hair, looking a little sheepish. “I, uh… I’ve been with some guys before. Not many. A couple.”

Ignis was stunned, though he tried his best not to show it. After all, he’d never asked about Gladio’s numerous precious relationships unless Gladio had brought them up first. If there were encounters Gladio hadn’t told him about, Ignis could hardly blame him for that. Not when he’d hidden Lexi’s existence for nearly ten months.

“I, uh, kinda keep it quiet,” Gladio continued. “Not ‘cause I’m ashamed or anything, and I’m not tryin’ to hide it from you, Iggy, it’s just… I haven’t told Dad yet, yeah? He doesn’t know I like both guys and girls.” He paused, stopping to delete a few more photos before looking back at Ignis. “I’m just havin’ fun, y’know? Nothing’s been serious. But if he hears I’m datin’ guys, he’ll sit me down and have that damn ‘You must have a kid to continue to line’ talk again, and that’s the last thing I want.”

Ah.

At last, something that made sense. Gladio was an Amiticia - and where there was a Caelum, there had to be an Amicitia to defend them. Gladio had no doubt been told of his responsibility to produce an heir when he was just a child, too young to really consider such things. If he then told his father he was also attracted to men… well, Ignis could see where that might go, and he couldn’t blame his friend for not wanting to deal with it just yet.

“Probably why it didn’t work out with those guys,” Gladio admitted. “Relationships aren’t so fun when you gotta keep ‘em secret.”

“It was difficult, at times,” Ignis conceded.

Gladio looked up at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Lexi and I always had to carefully plan our dates around Noct’s schedule,” Ignis replied. “Or rather, I only suggested dates when I knew Noct would be well occupied and protected. It was limiting. And then we had to select which places we went, picking restaurants and venues that weren’t too prominent, that weren’t too likely to be filled with people with whom I work.” He smiled, lips tight. “I had no reason to hide it, if course, not like you do, but I thought it best to keep the relationship low profile.”

Gladio nodded. “Damn gossip mags make it almost impossible to date,” he commiserated. “I mean, who cares who were dating? Really? Get a hobby.”

“A great number of people, unfortunately. Especially when you’re ‘Insomnia’s Most Eligible Bachelor’,” he added, smile turning into more of a smirk.

Gladio groaned. “Gods, don’t remind me,” he muttered. “I dunno why they picked me for that, and not, y’know, the fuckin’ _prince_ , but I get so much shit for that.”

“They probably assume Noctis will make an arranged marriage, which is correct. So he isn’t technically a bachelor.”

“Take their side, Iggy, sure,” Gladio retorted. “I see how it is.”

“Say what you’d like,” Ignis replied. “It’s what you get for being attractive.”

Gladio made a noncommittal noise and went back to erasing photographs. He hadn’t denied it - but then Gladio _knew_ he was attractive, and likely saw no use in denying it.

A moment later, Gladio finished, handing the phone back to Ignis.

“Done,” he said. “No more pictures.”

Ignis took the phone, looking down at the screen. Sure enough, the album that had once read “Lexi” was no longer there, and a quick check of his hardware space confirmed it - the photographs were gone.

“I - thank you, Gladio.”

Gladio shot him a lazy smile. “Hey, whatever helps, right?”

“This will. Help, I mean.” Ignis pocketed the phone, turning a little more towards Gladio on the couch. “I wanted to delete them myself, but…” He broke off, shaking his head. “It’s easier said than done.”

“I get that.” Gladio stretched out, putting his hands behind his head.

“I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I want him… I want him _gone,_ but at the same time, the thought of never seeing his face again, of never remembering the good times that we had… it’s…” Again, he couldn't find the words.

“Hey.”

A warm hand fell on his thigh, and Ignis looked up, surprised to see that Gladio had sat up, his face now mere inches away.

“You don’t have to explain it to me,” Gladio said softly.

Ignis gave him a small smile. “I know.”

“Good.” Gladio stretched then, kicking off his sneakers and scratching at his ribs. “So, hey, you busy?”

“At the moment? No.”

“Wanna stay and watch a movie? I just bought that new one, about the Nif spy in Tenebrae. We could order a pizza too, have some food.” Already, he was standing up, moving towards a stack of DVD cases near the entertainment system. “It’s supposed to be pretty good, too, got four stars and everything.”

“I-”

“You don’t have to,” Gladio said quickly, popping the DVD into one of the consoles he had plugged into his television. “But I was gonna watch it anyways. Thought I’d extend the offer.”

Ignis thought about it for a moment. It was Saturday, one of the few days when he didn’t have a pressing schedule to which to attend. Noct was safely holed up in his apartment, Prompto having spent the night in order that they could marathon a newly released game. If he chose to do so, he _could_ stay. He could spend the rest of the day here, even, only heading out when he needed to return to his apartment to sleep.

Did he want to stay here?

The thought was appealing. Gladio’s presence was nothing if not comforting, and his apartment was warm and smelled of cinnamon and leather. A few hours spent watching a movie, something mindless and entertaining, would no doubt take his mind off things as well.

His mind made up, he nodded and made himself more comfortable on the couch, relaxing back into the cushions. Gladio joined him a moment later, using his phone to put in an order for a couple of pizzas.

“Gladio?”

He looked up, thumbs still hovering over his phone. “Yeah?”

“I won’t tell anyone.”

Gladio blinked at him, uncomprehending.

“About your - about your sexual preferences.”

Recognition, followed quickly by gratitude, flicked across Gladio’s face, and he smiled. “Thanks,” he said, somewhat shyly. “Appreciate it.” The DVD’s title screen came to life then, momentarily distracting him, but he quickly returned his attention to Ignis. “I’ll tell Dad someday. I just… not today. Not right now.”

Ignis nodded, understanding. To his surprise, Gladio snorted.

“Look at this,” he muttered. “You came here for help, and we end up talkin’ about _my_ problems.” He shook his head. “Sorry, Iggy.”

“No,” Ignis said, disagreeing. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“...yeah?”

“Of course. If anything, it takes my mind off my own problems, and that’s a welcome relief.”

Gladio eyed him for a moment before relaxing back into the cushions. “‘Kay. If you’re sure.”

Ignis smiled. “I am.”

The movie was hardly what Ignis would have called prime entertainment, the writing terrible and the action sequences completely over-dramatized. But Gladio’s hoots of laughters at the ridiculous dialogue were funny in and of themselves, and Ignis found himself chuckling alongside his friend. By the time the film was finished, several hours later, his spirits were much lifted, and he bid his friend farewell feeling almost pleasant, assuring him that he'd felt much better than he had in recent days.

The buoyant, happy feeling lasted long into the night, long after he’d surmised it would fade. Instead of worrying, fretting, reminiscing about what had been, he thought only of Gladio, of his great, booming laughter and easy smile. Again, he found himself inordinately grateful that he even had such a friend that he could rely upon. And again, he was struck by how comforting he had found the day's events, how easily Gladio had eased his troubles, even if only temporarily. His mere presence had been enough to soothe Ignis, let along his words and deeds.

It was... strange, yes?

Was this normal, for a pair of friends as close as they were? 

Probably. Perhaps. 

Maybe.

Ignis had half a mind to stay up late and question it, not wanting to leave this train of thought incomplete. But after several weeks without much sleep, the thought of finally getting a good's night rest was too much to resist, and he decided to go to sleep early, curling up into a ball on his side in his most comfortable pair of pajamas. He drifted off almost immediately, sinking deep into his dreams. 

That night, it wasn't Lexi's voice that whispered kindly things in his ear.

It was Gladio's. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is much loved and appreciated and keeps me going :) Y'all are the BEST! <3


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